


Avenge the Living, Heal the Dead

by servatia83



Series: Beautiful and Much Maligned [2]
Category: The Chronicles of the Raven - James Barclay, Wiedźmin | The Witcher (Video Game), Wiedźmin | The Witcher - All Media Types, Wiedźmin | The Witcher Series - Andrzej Sapkowski
Genre: Canon Compliant, F/M, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Post-Blood and Wine (The Witcher 3 DLC), Spoilers for everything, not sure if everyone listed will actually show up, one tag is perhaps a lie, there’s a crime and I’m as clueless as the characters
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-10-02
Updated: 2018-10-10
Packaged: 2019-07-23 18:59:23
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 3,705
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16164926
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/servatia83/pseuds/servatia83
Summary: This is moreWitcher-world-centric than the predecessor, so you need to know that universe (at least the games’) but not necessarily theRavenbooks for this. Can be read as a stand-alone but if you plan to do so, you should readTug-o-Warbefore this one.Someone has been hurt. Someone has failed in a self-imposed task. And someone has to come to terms with the simple fact of being not just alive but well.Set afterThe Witcher 3including Blood and Wine.





	1. Prologue: Helpless

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  _((Re-reading the_ Witcher _books and replaying_ The Witcher 3 _has caused this. Is causing. Well. You get my drift.  
>  I’m not sure how fast I can update because I have a job, too, but I do fully intend to finish this. ~~I did finish~~_ ~~Tug-o-War _, too, after all, even if it took 5 ½ years_~~ _and I’m actually rather proud of the result. This one isn’t going to be quite so monstrous, though. ~~Not that I expected the other one to go anywhere beyond 20.000 words.~~  
>  Also I hope I won’t forget the frame story when I get back to that point in time. I don’t normally use those, but this scene was the first I had in my head, and you may know how I like my weird, brief, cryptic openers.))_

The Unknown Warrior watched the other man pace, hands balled into fists, his normally gentle face turned into a mask of anger that barely hid a much more primal emotion. Fear? The Unknown rose and stepped into his way, placing two large hands on his shoulders. A snarl that sounded almost inhuman escaped thin lips. He ignored it. ‘Listen … We are not assassins. If that is what you want …’

‘I want answers, not bloodshed!’

‘You don’t look like it.’

A quiver ran through the slender figure. ‘I don’t have many friends, Unknown, and fewer that I can count on for longer than the blink of an eye. I’m not going to leave a trail and death and destruction, nor would I ever ask anyone to do that for me. That isn’t me. I’m frightened of losing someone very dear to me. And if that happens I want to know why, at least.’

‘And do you know …’

‘No! I know nothing, and it’s killing me.’ Every word was softer than the last, until he ended in little more than a choked whisper. ‘If he dies …’

‘Make sure he doesn’t.’

‘I asked him to come here. Had I not …’

The Unknown ignored the interruption. ‘We can try and find out who attacked your friend, and if we do we’ll hand them over. But as I told Thaler long before you, we are not hitmen. I heard you when you said that’s not what you want, but I still want to make it very clear.’ The only answer the Unknown got was a nod. ‘Good. Now, do you wish to hire us?’

‘Yes.’

‘Then we’ll meet in the evening and you tell me everything you know. Who this person is, when you last saw him safe, what happened in between, and what he might have told you about his enemies. Can you do that?’

‘Yes. We’ll do that.’

‘You going to bring your external composure, too? Good idea. See you later. Now go home. Check on your friend. He’s still alive, so don’t bury him just yet, even in that head of yours. Should we come to your place so you have him within your extraordinary earshot if something happens?’

‘Please.’

‘Will do.’

‘I’ll pay you.’

‘We’d do it for free for you, but I know you wouldn’t let us.’

The ghost of a smile touched the other man’s face. ‘True. Thanks, Unknown.’


	2. Every Heartbeat a Song

Regis didn’t knock when he entered. The majordomo came running, but seeing him halted and bowed. ‘Good afternoon, Barnabas. Oh, don’t fret on my behalf, please. Is Geralt anywhere to be found?’

With another bow, the majordomo gestured outside. ‘In the vineyard, good sir.’

Regis smiled. ‘Thanks a lot.’ He walked out and ambled through the lush grounds. He spotted Geralt easily with his white hair, tied back in a messy bun. He was about to call out, then reconsidered. With a smile, he turned away from the vineyard and picked his path. He had always wondered if anyone could sneak up on the witcher. Time to find out.

He didn’t get anywhere near. Geralt turned, eyes narrowed. ‘You know, this isn’t the best idea. Imagine you had succeeded.’

Regis opened his arms. ‘You are unarmed.’

Geralt patted a small dagger at his side. ‘Not entirely.’

‘Silver?’

‘That make a difference to you?’

Regis laughed. ‘In the degree of momentary pain it would cause me, yes. But you say it yourself. Any brief attack could hardly cause much damage and I do assume you would relent once you recognise me.’

‘Yes. And I’d rather not damage you at all, Regis.’

Taking in his friend, Regis smiled. Since that night where they had either caused or avoided a tragedy, depending on the viewpoint, they had only seen each other briefly. The hunt for Dettlaff, the chase through a city being ravaged by vampires hadn’t been kind to the witcher. When they had faced Dettlaff, Regis had known that should it come to a fight, he would not walk away. He would fight with the one who had to lose this battle, face white as a sheet aside from the veins standing out in stark contrast from his potions. No. He would never have allowed Geralt to be harmed, not matter what he owed Dettlaff. He was eternally grateful it hadn’t come to that. No matter the outcome, it would have been painful.

‘You in there, Regis?’

‘I apologise. You look well, Geralt. Better than I have ever seen you, I daresay.’

Geralt made a face. ‘Procrastination doing me good, eh?’

‘Like you had that in you. I know you still take contracts.’ He got a sheepish grin in reply. ‘I came to tell you that Dettlaff has … moved on. He has decided to avoid Toussaint for a significant amount of time and anyone that reminds him of the sordid business.’

‘I’m sorry.’

Regis shook his head. ‘Don’t be. He’ll be all right in the end. One day I’ll meet him again and like you, I will see a man who has left the pains of his past behind. I’m sure about that.’ His brows twitched into a minute frown. ‘I am, however, here for a reason. Two reasons, in fact.’

‘Can you be any more ominous, please?’

‘I’m sure I can if I try. Or I could tell you that it’s nothing to worry about.’

‘Would that be true?’

‘Mostly.’

‘Still. Let’s go inside. Want a drink?’

‘You know the answer to that.’

Geralt chuckled. ‘No narcotics for you, yeah. Just wondering if you have a preference for any particular non-narcotic beverages. There’s a lot of fruits growing here, and since I’m not the one with a history of brewing moonshine, I made juice from some of it.’

Following in his friend’s wake, Regis entered the cool house again. ‘Whatever you have handy.’

He seated himself at the table, knowing that Geralt wouldn’t let him help. He accepted a glass of what a sniff revealed to be apple juice.

The witcher’s catlike eyes watched every small shift in Regis’s expression carefully, he knew, missing nothing. That Geralt knew him better than most people made evading the question that was no doubt coming an impossibility. ‘So what brings you? Start with the ominous part, please.’

Regis shot Geralt a small smile. ‘I have a question for you, Geralt. Purely hypothetical.’

‘Yeah. I’ll pretend that I’m buying that.’

‘Good. I’ve asked it before, a bit differently. What would it take for you to go after a higher vampire?’

‘You never asked me that. You asked how much someone would have to offer for me to take a contract on you, and that was before we were friends. Is someone after you, Regis? You know I’d never do it now.’

‘Never, Geralt?’ He leaned forwards. ‘Imagine I wasn’t who I am, without my … history. Imagine I could indulge myself and occasionally take blood from humans. Never killing them, not that, but drinking from them for pleasure. I would surround myself with people that provide their blood and take it. Would you kill me if I did that?’

‘No. Didn’t kill your former lover in Vizima, either.’

Regis’s eyes widened. ‘You never told me you met Lenka.’

‘Never learned her name. She didn’t seem to do any harm.’

‘Geralt, this is still … possibly different. If I were to take the blood of children, what would you do?’

Folding his arms, Geralt looked hard at Regis as if he tried to read his mind. ‘Who are we talking about?’

‘This is a hypothetical question.’

Geralt huffed, proving that Regis’s assessment had been right: Nothing that wasn’t the entire truth would get past him. ‘Yeah. And I’m a dragon. We’re talking about a higher vampire, right? Like you or Dettlaff?’

Despite the futility of his efforts, Regis decided continue pretending this was all just a made up scenario. ‘Since this is, as we agreed, purely hypothetical, it would be hard to provide details. Should I decide to go elsewhere for a while, and should some higher vampire known to me do what I said, would you advise me to warn them to move on, as well? Or would they and you be safe enough?’

‘Do I know that vampire, Regis?’

‘I don’t know exactly who you are familiar with in all of Toussaint, Geralt.’

‘All right. I’ll play along, then. I’ll pretend that I haven’t figured out that you’re talking about Orianna. Close your mouth, I might realise that you’re a vampire if I spot your teeth.’

‘How …’

‘Who else? You don’t socialise with a lot of vampires, let alone make sure they’ll be safe when you’re out of town. The answer is no, I don’t think anyone could afford it. And the one person who could wouldn’t care enough about a bunch of random kids.’

‘And if someone could and cared?’

Geralt made a face. ‘Only if she causes serious harm. Might rather go and advise her to leave.’

‘If she refused?’

‘Can’t answer that. Depends on what I’d find on site, on how that talk generally goes.’

‘Geralt, my dilemma is this. I cannot linger here much longer and I’d rather not return one day to find out that you two killed each other. How are my chances of screwing any kind of promise out of you? Perhaps that if there ever were such a contract and you believed it might be justified, you’d send for me instead of going after her by yourself?’

Geralt nodded. ‘That I can do.’

The relief on Regis’ face had to be visible. ‘Thank you, my friend.’

‘Why’re you leaving, Regis? I’ll ask again. Is anyone after you?’

‘No.’ He relaxed, arms resting on the table and a close-lipped smile playing around his mouth. ‘Quite the contrary. I am after someone and it’s high time I told you. I have been away from her for too long already. There is someone in Oxenfurt, you see, and I cannot wait to return to her.’

‘Oh? You made up with Lenka? I assumed she left Vizima after all that happened there but I didn’t run into her in Oxenfurt.’

‘Not Lenka, no. I would like you to meet her, though.’ His smile grew a bit wider. This secret Geralt wouldn’t wheedle out of him. He couldn’t wait to see the witcher’s face when he realised that he knew Regis’s partner. Intimately, in fact.

‘Now I’m curious.’

‘Here’s an idea. You visit us and she can tell you of her year. In fact …’ Regis paused and leaned forwards. ‘You would probably be fascinated by this. We ran into the most interesting curse.’

‘You know, most people don’t sound so enthusiastic when talking about curses.’

Regis rose with a smile. ‘Ah, Geralt. It was most convenient, so I have to admit that I was not as shocked by the gravity of it all as I should have been. But as I said, it is not my tale to tell. It belongs entirely to this wonderful human being. And don’t worry, I won’t end up going bonkers if something should happen. Not that it would in this fashion. So when the winter comes and work in the vineyard gets scarce, come to see us, would you? I mean it.’

‘I know you do. I’ll write to you before I leave. I assume you don’t plan to live in a crypt in Oxenfurt.’

‘Not quite. You can write, I plan to open a … well, not just a barber shop, but you’ll see that for yourself. What I’m saying is, addressing your letter to Emiel Regis in Oxenfurt ought to suffice.’ He clasped his friend’s hand and pulled him into a hug that Geralt returned with a tight squeeze of the vampire’s thin frame. ‘Farewell, Geralt,’ Regis said before releasing him. ‘Take care of yourself.’

 


	3. In the Light of Our Dreams

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  _((Something that I overlooked the previous chapter: I think, in_ Blood and Wine _, Regis does drink alcohol. In the books, he does not. It’s been a while since I’ve read them and I didn’t read them in English, so I cannot give an exact quote, but he says something along the lines of, ‘I don’t allow myself any kind of intoxicants.’ This is when Geralt and a bunch of others first meet him. He gives them mandrake moonshine and they ask why if he doesn’t want any himself. I went with that approach without realising that there is (perhaps) a discrepancy.  
>  On a rather different note, I managed to mess up my file after editing (I’ll tell you at the end of the chapter), so there may be some formatting issues and/or other traces of that. I worked over it with file comparing mode, but what with a lot of false positives and every single quotation mark registering, I might have missed something/removed something I shouldn’t have or what not.  
> Chapter heading is from _Once We Were _, one of the tavern songs in_ Dragon Age: Inquisition _.))_

As always, when Regis came to Oxenfurt, he felt a conflicting mix of emotions. It was a beautiful city, and it was probably the place he had spent the most time in. And yet … there was always the lingering worry that someone would remember him from too long ago with no change to his appearance. That he frequented the same places as the most brilliant heads of the North didn’t help the matter.

Shielding his eyes from the low sun, Regis remembered Geralt muttering something about the murderous sun being about to rise and started laughing. A guard stared at him. ‘You drunk?’

‘Oh, goodness, no,’ Regis replied. He walked on, still feeling the guard’s eyes on him. Black uniforms now. Nilfgaard had seized control, but compared to what had been going on before, it was better that way. The descriptions he’d got of Radovid’s madness had been rather colourful and to him, rulership in general was all too fleeting to worry too much about the Nilfgaardians as long as they didn’t start murdering people out of pure wilfulness.

All in all, Regis was glad to be back, but he also knew that he couldn’t stay here forever. For a while it had looked as if he was forced to stay, as if convincing Oxenfurt at large that his unchanging face was just nature’s blessing was the smaller problem than relocating. Now, though … Well. It wasn’t all up to him.

It was with this in mind that he entered the clinic. He didn’t announce himself, just stood and watched. The war was over, which made it better than when he had left. One of the nurses gave him a cursory glance. ‘Excuse me, if you’re not here for some emergency I ask you to come back in a bit. Half an hour will do.’

‘Can I help somehow?’ he offered.

The nurse looked him up and down now and clearly found him wanting. ‘Thank you very much, but we can make do.’

‘I’ll just wait upstairs, then.’

‘You can’t go there! That’s a private area.’

Regis suppressed a sigh. The woman was doing her job. ‘You are absolutely correct. I ask to be allowed to wait here, however. I very much look forward to meeting the head of this establishment.’

‘She’s operating.’

Regis knew that. The smell of disinfectant and blood would be too faint for a human, but for him it was powerful and told him a lot. It wasn’t so much that it was worrying, probably some injury that needed more care than a quick bandage. Filing any other association with the heavy tang of blood away along with the memory of a cage and darkness and a deep worry that had only died at the height of madness, Regis sat on a chair and closed his eyes.

The door to the backroom opened, and Regis was about to announce himself, but the nurse was faster. ‘Miss, there’s this fellow, I don’t know him. He just came in here and fell asleep in the chair. Older one, might be a homeless guy, so I didn’t kick him out.’

‘Where is h… _Emiel!_ ’

He opened his eyes and smiled, lips closed. ‘I look like a homeless person now? Why, I would have changed out of my travel clothes, but your nurse wasn’t letting me upstairs.’

‘Kryszta, you can’t …’

‘Hey, she doesn’t know me.’ Regis stood and approached the smaller woman, who beamed up at him, close enough to count her freckles. ‘I missed you, Shani.’

Shani looked at her hands. There was a small smear of blood on one. ‘Damn. I need to clean up before I hug you. Kryszta, this is Emiel Regis. He can go wherever he pleases, thank you very much. Have you bought that place you’d cast an eye on?’

‘I’m thinking that renting would be better. And I have a suggestion, but I need to talk about that with you when you have your head free of other concerns. This is too big an issue to decide in passing. Your patient. Is he all right?’

Shani made a face. ‘He will be. He’s also learned a lesson in caution when handling sharp objects. What about you? You look tired.’

‘It’s been a long journey and … things happened that will take time for me to process. Here's an idea. I’ll get rid of the dusty coat and you tell me where you need me when I come back down. I’ll tell you everything in detail when I’ve had something to eat and a bit of rest.’

Ϡ

They set out for the realtor early the next morning. Shani watched Regis carefully. He was never a loud man, but right now his silence had intensified to the point of being worrying. He had told her of Toussaint and specifically of a vampire fortress he had been caged in at his own behest. He had watched her carefully as if he expected her to be frightened by his candid rendition of the events. She was not. But since that, Regis had barely said a word, and something told her that this was more than the momentary setback in his ongoing recovery. She halted abruptly. ‘Regis. If you are having second thoughts, just say it. I’m not going to make a scene.’

Regis blinked. ‘What? I know you wouldn’t.’ He took a step towards her and reached out, but Shani stepped away. ‘Why do I keep surrounding myself with people who can read me like a book?’

‘I can’t read you at all right now. That’s what’s bugging me. You’re keeping your cards close to your chest, won’t let me see behind your walls.’

He smiled and it seemed genuine. ‘First things first, then. No, I do not have second thoughts about us. I love you. Deeply and truly. That hasn’t changed in my absence nor is it ever going to. I have second thoughts about staying in Oxenfurt long term. It’s just not a good idea.’

Shani relaxed and took his hand. ‘You think you’ll be figured out, surrounded by scholars whose main job it is to observe.’

‘This will work beautifully for a time. But not for good. Not long enough. And I honestly have no other idea what you would want, where you would want to be.’

‘Well. Where do you think people are easier to fool? I’ll guess. You’re going to suggest Toussaint.’

Regis laughed. ‘It would be much easier there. Is leaving an option for you at all?’

‘Since the other option is risking that you have to run one day, sure. I’ve been in so many places, Regis, I’ve travelled a lot. It has never bothered me.’

‘We also have a mutual friend in Toussaint.’

‘I know. He was here, too. Actually, I met him only a day after you left.’

Regis frowned for a moment. ‘And you didn’t tell him I’m alive?’

Shani’s lips twitched. ‘Honestly, it didn’t come up at first. There was stuff going on. Bad stuff, Regis, and it reminded me a lot of … you know. Dima. And his curse. And when Geralt told me he was going to Toussaint, I kept a straight face. I wanted to grant you the opportunity to observe the stricken look on his face when he finds you. Seemed like that particular privilege is yours alone. And you were bound to hear he’s there.’ She shook her head slightly. ‘I get why you’d rather rent that place we’re going to look at. You want to linger here as briefly as possible.’

‘I wouldn’t be that drastic. Depending on the cost and how difficult it would be to resell it, it might be better. And I wonder … is it wise for you to sleep above your clinic?’

‘Worked out fine so far. But … hang on. You’re asking me to live with you.’

‘Yes.’ He stopped and took her shoulders. ‘What do you think why I want you to come with me? You’d certainly have more space for yourself rather than less. I’d have my shop above yours and if we need each other’s help we’re just a shout apart. We’ve proven that we work well together when we patched up Hirad.’

‘Oh? You put him back together from the scraps the Raven brought you. And I had very little part because I was … ah.’

‘Indisposed, but you did give me valuable input and I appreciated you presence. And Hirad wasn’t _that_ badly injured.’

‘He lost very much blood.’

‘In that regard, his survival had more to do with weird magic than my skill, Shani. And I have to say that you have a lot on me in regards to experience. I haven’t spent half my life sewing soldiers back together in the middle of a battlefield.'

‘You’re a better diagnostic.’

‘Small wonder since I can sniff out most diseases.’

‘Doesn’t change the fact.’

‘Nor does it change what I said. We make a good team. Or are you inclined to disagree?’

‘Not at all. We may have minor ethical disagreements from time to time, but I’m sure we can overcome those easily.’

'Well, in that case, I’d love to live and to work with you. If you want to and if you can deal with what people will say.’

‘What could they possibly say?’

Regis snorted. ‘Look at us. They’ll say that I’m using you. That I’m an old codger who can’t get laid. That you depend on my money and pay by letting me fuck you.’

‘Regis!’ She laughed. ‘Seriously, I should never have let you talk to Thaler.’

‘I learned the bad words well before I met Thaler from a young woman with a fouler mouth than him.’ He ignored her raised eyebrows. ‘The clinic, of course, would remain yours. I would never take it from you.’

‘Shut up, Emiel. I know you’d never do that. And I don’t care what anyone says. They have no idea who you are. As long as they say that, they won’t get closer to the truth. Let them shoot off their mouths.’ She stepped closer and wrapped her arms around his waist. ‘My answer is yes, Regis. I want to live with you. And I’ll go away with you when you think it’s time you relocate to somewhere with a bit less observant people. We’ll open a new place there. Everywhere needs a clinic, doesn’t it?’

‘I couldn’t agree more.’

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _((Shani and Regis have been an item in_ Tug-o-War _. I’ve established there that they knew each other from quite a while ago. They got together during the_ Witcher 2 _timeline. The decision to go to Oxenfurt was made under duress as the only option they (Shani specifically) seemed to have for a while.  
>  As far as I remember, Regis only swears a single time in the books and also to make a point. I don’t remember where, but I know whom he blames when everyone stares at him.  
> And what, you ask, did you do to your file? Well. Being a bit paranoid, I keep my files in a password protected 7z file. If you save something, you get a prompt whether or not you want to apply the changes to the archived files. I thought that prompt only comes if you close all open files from the archive, but somehow in the afternoon, when I was about to leave the office, I got two prompts. I accepted the first and cancelled the second because I wasn’t sure if they came in the right order. They do. Therefore, I didn’t have all the changes since the morning. Fortunately, I did have the chapter on the clipboard, so I could paste it and save it separately.))_


End file.
